


Not-So-Merry Christmas

by poseidonsheart



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, john is a sweetheart, mimi is also really sweet, paul is dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:26:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poseidonsheart/pseuds/poseidonsheart
Summary: Paul gets drugged at a Christmas Eve gig. John takes him home and helps takes care of him. Some feelings are shared along the way.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 3
Kudos: 104





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically like Another Time but better so if you wanted a second part to that fic this is for you
> 
> this is kinda stupid but also angsty(kinda lol) and fluffy?

All throughout the night, Paul was glued to this man’s hip. John couldn't help but stare at the two as they flirted and acted as if they had been dating for years. 

It was Christmas Eve and the band had just played down at the Cavern Club. They decided after hours and hours of jumping around on stage, that they deserved to have a few drinks before returning home to their families. George had already tapped out after one or two beers. John could’ve sworn he saw him take one beer but claim it was his second. Stu and Pete were somewhere chatting off some poor girls ear. And then there was John. He sat alone at one of the barstools, watching as Paul explained something about guitars, and the man towered over him, smiling and biting his lip. 

Poor Paul, he was too nice. This man was probably ten years older than him and here he was, probably thinking that he was just making a friend. John couldn't say anything. He knows Paul too well. If he dared to say anything, Paul would get mad and probably sleep with him just to piss off John. He didn't even know what they were. They had slept together once or twice but never talked about it. It just happened. John knew he loved Paul. And Paul loved him. John didn't know what they were waiting for.

Things started to go downhill when a bird started talking to John and he was losing focus on Paul. But everytime he peeked over, he saw Paul using lazy hand motions, start to stumble and blink hard. He assumed he was getting way too drunk, especially for Christmas Eve. 

“I'm sure your friend is fine.” The girl said, rubbing John's arm, doing some sort of pout. 

John turned back to her. “Huh?” 

“The black haired one. He’s your…4-string guitar player, right?” She pointed at Paul. 

John couldn't help but smirk. “It's, uh, called a bass.” He glanced back at him again. “And only sometimes.” 

“Whatever.” She waved her hand and continued to talk about something that John was tuning out. 

He just couldn't stop looking at Paul. Something was off. Everytime Paul got drunk, he started getting really handsy and energetic. That wasn't happening. The man kept on buying him drinks and getting closer and closer. He said almost nothing to Paul. Paul, on the other hand, was just talking his ear off. John didn't even know he had that much to say. 

Then, something strange happened. He saw the guy switch Paul’s almost empty drink with his, which was almost completely full. John shook his thoughts off and tapped his foot against the ground. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. He watched as Stu and Pete leave with no girl, hanging off each other’s necks, probably shit-faced off their arses. 

He helplessly stared at Paul. He put a hand on the man’s chest and stumbled off to the bathroom. John instantly sprang up and hurried off after him. He opened the door and instantly panicked at what he saw in front of him. 

Paul was on the floor, hand gripping at the sink. He was crying and smacking himself on the forehead. He looked back up at John and wiped his eyes. John closed the door and rushed to his side. 

“Hey, what the hell happened?” John slung an arm around his shoulder and moved them to the toilet. 

Paul heaved a few times before throwing up into the toilet. Rubbing a soothing circle into his back, he watched as drool dripped from his mouth while he kept on crying. John grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped his mouth, then tossed it into the garbage can. He grabbed another wad and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Paul, what happened?” John said, quieter this time. 

He simply leaned against John and held on tight to him. Well, as tight as he could, considering how fucked up he was. “T-The guy…” His breathing was staggered and sharp. “He must’ve slipped something in- in my drink.” He broke out into a sob again, trying to hold onto John as tight as possible. “Everything's spinning and-and-”

“Shhh…” John furrowed his eyebrows. “C’mon, let's get you home.” He pulled Paul off the floor and hooked an arm around his waist, the other holding Paul’s arm around his shoulder. 

“N-No, I can't go h-home. My dad’ll kill me.” He said, heaving even more. 

John opened the bathroom door and helped him through the crowded bar. The man came up to stop John. By now, Paul’s eyes were closed and his head was dropped. 

“Yeah, i’ll take ‘im. He’s with me.” He said, going to take Paul away. 

“No, he’s not.” John gripped tighter onto Paul and backed away from the man. 

The man scoffed, “Who are you, exactly?” 

John stepped past him. “I'm his friend. I’ll take him from here.” 

The man knelt down to look at Paul, grabbing him roughly by the chin. “C’mon darling, you want to come back with me don't you?” He stared devilishly into Pauls tear-filled eyes. 

“N-No…need to go with John.” Paul mumbled, tears overflowing from his eyes and his hair glued to his forehead with sweat. 

John watched Pauls head drop again as the man let go of his chin. The man stood and brushed past John, bumping his shoulder. The two stepped outside, the cold winter air harshly biting at their skin. 

“John.” Paul said quietly. “Thank you.” 

John looked down at him. “Of course.” 

“I feel like I'm falling.” He mumbled.

“I know, we’re going back to my house, just pick up your feet a little more.” Paul sniffled and hummed in response. 

It was a long walk because of Paul’s dizziness but eventually they made it into the house. John hauled Paul inside and sat him at the kitchen table before disappearing into the pantry. Paul shakily went to unbutton his shirt. After giving up, he broke into more quiet sobs. 

John came back and gave him a few crackers. “We didn't have much. Eat it slowly.” He set down a glass of water on the table. 

“I'm so stupid…What the hell is wrong with me?” He cried, biting his lower lip. 

Before John could say anything, a creaking came from the stairs. They quickly turned to see Mimi in her nightgown. 

“What are you two doing? It's,” She turned to the clock on the kitchen wall. “1:20 in the morning on Christmas.” She snapped, moving into the kitchen to fully look at the boys. 

“Mimi, something happened at our gig and Paul isn't sober enough to go home.” John explained gently, trying not to be too loud for Pauls sake and not get scolded. 

Mimi took a step closer to Paul and turned his head up. She brushed the hair away from his forehead and looked at his state. His eyes were dark and tear-filled, cheeks were blotchy, and his lips were parted and shaking. She sighed and kneeled down, taking his hands into her own. “Promise me you’ll be back to your father by 6:30?” Mimi said gently. Her hands were cold and felt smooth against Paul’s calloused fingers. Paul simply nodded his head and looked down. “Sober him up and get him home. Try not to be too loud.” She said to John. 

“Okay.” John watched as she walked back up the stairs and into her bedroom. “Let’s get you into some different clothes, yeah?” He helped Paul up the stairs and carried his crackers and water. Paul sat on the bed and waited for John to gather some clothes. He set down a pair of pajama pants and a shirt. 

John unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of his body. He then took off Pauls pants and put on the pajama ones instead. When he went to put on the shirt, Paul refused and rolled away from him. He made himself comfortable in John’s bed. John shifted his feet and made his way back downstairs. Sitting down on Mimi’s armchair, he ran his hands over his face and stared off into nothing. He decided he would let Paul sleep for a bit before taking him back to his house. 

“John?” He heard Paul call out from upstairs.

He sighed and quickly ran up the stairs to keep him from calling again. “Yeah, Paul?” 

“Could you stay?” He sat up and was crying again. John sat opposite of him and placed his hands on his cheeks, wiping his tears away. 

John tilted his head. “C’mon now, don't cry.” 

“Why did I let this happen?” He asked, as if John had an answer. His voice was broken and full of emotion.

“You didn't know.” John brushed the hair from his forehead. 

“That's the problem, John. I should notice these things by now. And I shouldn't have done that to you because I know we have this sort of fling going on and I know I want to be with you but i’ve never been dated a bloke, y’know. I feel like you don't actually want me like I want you.” Paul looked down and savored the feeling of John's hands. “I don't know…” 

“Paul, I do want to be with you. I want to be more than just an occasional fling.” John caressed his cheek. “For now, you should get some sleep. You probably won't even remember half of this when you wake up.” He got up off the bed and grabbed an extra blanket, spanning it out over Pauls body. Paul reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and softly pressed their lips together. John closed his eyes and leaned into him. Paul ran his hands into Johns auburn locks, drinking up the feeling of his hair pooling around and between his fingers. 

When Paul pulled away, he simply stared at John. “Please stay…” John smiled and sighed. He crawled into Pauls arms and ran his fingers over his back, causing him to shiver. 

John stayed there until the sun rose again. He didn't get any sleep, he just stayed in Pauls hold and kept him close. But the sun started to peek through the curtains, and John had to complete the mission of returning Paul back to his family before the chaos of Christmas day came.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

John moved to kiss his forehead before softly shaking him awake. “Hey, we gotta get you home.” Paul mumbled a noise of protest and wrapped his arms and legs tighter around Johns middle. “Don't make me push you off the bed.” 

Paul groaned and rolled off of John, turning over to face away from him. “Got a bangin’ headache.” John laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, arm behind his head. “This feels familiar.” Paul said through a sigh. 

“Yeah.” John took a deep breath. “What do you remember from last night?” He turned his head in Pauls direction. 

Paul rolled his body towards John’s. “I don't know, it's just bits and pieces.” He traced a few shapes into Johns skin. “I remember the guy, and throwing up. I remember seeing Mimi. But…I remember…” Paul bit his lip. “We were up here and I said something about being with you.” 

The two finally looked at each other. “Yeah, um,” John shifted. “Paul, I do want to be with you. As in, more than just shagging every now and then.” 

“I do too.” He smiled and John felt a patch of warmth grow in his chest and up into his cheeks. “How do we do that?” 

“I don't know. Paul, do you wanna be my boyfriend?” John grinned down at him.

Paul leaned up and kissed him, placing his hand on his cheek. “I would love to.” He laid his head on John's chest. “What time is it?” 

John looked to his bedside clock. “Shit!” He jumped up, causing Paul to panic.

“What?” He looked at the clock that read 7:45. “Fuck!” The two quickly put on some sort of clothes. John threw a jacket to Paul and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the house. They sprinted down the streets to 20 Forthlin Road. “Shit! My dad is probably already awake!” Despite his fear of being scolded by his dad, he couldn't help but laugh.

“I'm sorry!” John yelled through a laugh. 

When they got there, John helped hoist Paul up the drain pipe. Paul peeked his head out of the window. “Thank you!” He whisper-yelled. John started to walk away but felt something hard hit the back of his head. He turned around and looked at what had just hit him. He looked down and saw a small chocolate heart wrapped in gold and red foil lying in the snow. He picked it up and looked back at Paul’s window. He blew John a kiss and leaned against his window. 

John took a running start and pulled himself up the drainpipe, planting his feet on the wall and hanging by the windowsill. Paul smiled widely and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“When are you free next, my dear princess?” John said.

Paul laughed. “If i’m free tomorrow, I’ll stop by.” 

“Okay, see you tomorrow then.” John puckered his lips and let Paul lean in to kiss him. “Happy Christmas, Paul.”

“Happy Christmas, Johnny.” Paul ruffled his hair. 

John climbed back down and happily ran back to his house, a huge smile painting his face.


End file.
